Intoxicated
by BuryTheHatchet
Summary: They are not drunk. Sorry. They are however fighting, or will be later, should you read that far. Set post season 3/pre season 4, but with a slight twist. And by slight I mean major. Look, just read it. It will make you grateful that things ended the way they did and not this way. Or not, as the case may be. It has a happy ending now - you all owe me one. Big time.
1. Addicted

**I have absolutely no clue what-so-ever where this came from, but it happened and I am very sorry for it. Or I would be if apologies were not a sign of weakness. The summary says it all.**

 **There are three chapters in this in total, all written up already. And this time I promise that when it ends it ends.**

Addicted

The cream paper envelope felt heavy as she ran fingers across its smooth surface, the curved lettering of his name. And metaphorically what it contained was very heavy. The words themselves were powerful, more so than her fists – which provided good competition for the struggle of power – but even she had to admit that these words that she had written could cause earth-shattering damage. It was not an easy thing for her to do, but she had decided that a letter would be easier than explaining it face to face with him. More personal in a way that a shouting match across the squad room could never be. And that would be the only place they could talk. He had not turned up at her apartment last night like he was supposed to again. She would have explained it then if he had shown.

It was not an easy decision to make, hours of staring at his face, at pictures of the whole team together. But she realised that it was the only thing that could be done. She was continually thinking about him, or thinking about thinking about him, which lead to thinking about him anyway.

Her attention was split.

She could not focus on what she was doing.

She had no way to satisfy her cravings.

He clouded her mind 24/7 with his intoxicating smile.

She could not do her job if he was always on her mind, it would put herself, him and the rest of the team – her family – in danger. And it had done.

Every thought trail always led back to him. Whatever she was thinking, it always took a detour – a joke he had told, a movie referenced or a mistake made – back to him. It was so painful to watch him, to try every day to make him see her, actually see _her_ – not the Mossad officer or the colleague, but her – for the first time. She had suddenly noticed she was spending more and more time at the office, getting there increasingly earlier and leaving later so she could be the first and last face he would see at NCIS every day. It had not occurred to her that she had less paperwork to do, only that she was never disappointed when he walked in and gave her his biggest smile, whatever his mood. It had crossed her mind that she was by far not the only woman to have received that smile, but she could not care less as he beamed at her. His smile was the worst part though. It was that which was the hardest thing to think about letting go of. She would have to go without her morning dose, a thought that brought another stab of pain to her chest. But it would be better that she let him continue smiling – even if not to her – than being so distracted that something went wrong and leaving the world devoid of his breath-taking, heart-breaking grins, was it not? She fingered the black ink of his name again and bit her lip before turning it over and removing the reams of paper from it's unsealed paper covering. Her eyes flickered over the pages for the hundredth time. It contained no lies. Not like the one she had given to Jenny. It omitted nothing. Not like the ones she had written for the others.

It contained the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

She slid the paper back in the envelope and hid it where she knew he would look first when he noticed she was not at her desk – tucked behind the photos of all the people Gibbs had helped, saved and befriended, if that was the right word for it. He had refused to remove them when their boss left, said they were a reminder of the man they had all looked up to and all the good he had put into the world. They had spent evenings in the office, just the two of them, wondering who each of the people were, what Gibbs had done to help them and what they had done to deserve a place on Gibbs' partitioning wall. Nobody else would even dare go near the photos, even if they could see the letter and were tempted, the photos were off limits. She let a lone tear slip down her face as she moved back to stand in front of his desk, like he made everyone but her do when reporting evidence. It did not take long to place the few items she wanted to keep in her bag and she looked around the silent, dark room. Memories flickered through her mind, lingering on some and skipping others as she reminisced about her year at NCIS.

She reached out and flicked the lamp on her desk out for the last time.

She walked to the elevator for the last time, guided only by the green glow of the emergency exit light.

She rode the elevator in silence for the last time.

She hit the stop button for the last time and collapsed against the cold metal wall as her body shuddered with silent tears.

He was like a drug.

A bad habit.

And she had to break that habit before it destroyed her.

She had to quit.

Because she was addicted.

And the only thing to do was quit.

She had to quit Anthony DiNozzo, before it was too late.

 **For my reference: 14th NCIS fic.**


	2. Withdrawal

Withdrawal

He waltzed out of the elevator, preparing for his first big smile of the morning. And stopped short. The half smile that had already formed faltered and finally failed as he stared at her empty desk. He'd been making an effort to get into work earlier, and yet she still beat him in every morning. It was driving him crazy, and yet he loved it. It was refreshing to see her face first after a hard night's undercover work. And for her not to be there was disappointing.

But something else was wrong. He frowned and walked behind her desk, scanning it and dropping his bag when he realised what was wrong, missing (besides her, of course). The photo of her and her sister wasn't where it had always sat, since her first day at that desk, Kate's old desk. He yanked her drawer open with so much force and a loud bang that heads turned as people stared at the brave soul who had started rifling through Ziva David's desk and personal belongings. She had left the small Israeli flag on her desk, along with the picture of the whole team that had once sat next to the picture of her and Tali. Her SIG and badge were left in her drawer, but the photos he knew she kept in there were not. Her Hebrew copy of GSM was, but the bottle of perfume he bought her after their undercover mission together (as a thank you for saving him of course - why else would ha have brought her perfume) was not. "Madam Director!" He yelled as he saw a flash of red from the corner of his eye. He didn't look up as he stormed to the elevator and waited for her to join him, glaring at the two younger agents who hadn't had the forethought to flee the scene like everyone else had. They scurried out as the director nodded to them politely with undertones that suggested they did not want to be in a ten-mile radius when the blast went off. "Where is my agent?"

"Ziva is not and never has been an agent." She spoke calmly as his hand connected with the stop button. He was so much like Gibbs that it scared her.

"Fine then, Madam Director. Where. Is. My. Mossad. Officer?" He spat the heavily punctuated words out, an angry fire blazing in his eyes as he stared at her.

"Officer David's time with the agency is up. She has returned to Mossad."

"And you didn't even try to stop Mossad from taking her back? She was a good agent! We were a good team!"

"I cannot deny a liaison officer's request to be transferred home if that is what she wants. Don't forget, Tony, that Ziva was my friend long before she was yours. If I could have made her stay then I would have."

"So you want me to believe that she would leave all of this, her friends and family?"

"Tony, her family is back in Israel."

"Blood doesn't make family, Jenny." He shook his head. "Did she give a reason?"

"She said she was home-sick. She felt she was changing too much from who she had always been over such a short period of time." Tony snorted an indignant half-laugh and shook his head.

"And you believed that?"

"She said the victims were getting to her." Her look told him that she was telling the truth, or at least the truth that she had been told. He flicked the elevator on again and left the metal carriage with only slightly less anger than he had entered with. He sat in his chair and stared at her empty desk, swivelling round for the moral support of Gibbs' wall of pictures. The corner of a cream envelope stuck out from behind the corner of one of them and he plucked it out, smiling at the recognisable handwriting.

"What'cha got there, boss?" McGee asked and Tony realised he had been staring at his name for long enough so that both his other agents had arrived and started work.

"None of your beeswax, Probie." He stood up and walked to the men's room, locking the door and unfolding the flap. He tugged gently at the paper and it slid out into his hand. His breath caught in his throat as he read her confessions, brushing the marks made by her teardrops that had fallen as she wrote. He slammed his fist down on the countertop and made his way briskly to the elevator, not bothering to collect his bag in his haste.


	3. Toys in a Sandbox

**Because there is no such thing as happily ever after.**

Toys in a Sandbox

He didn't bother knocking as he walked through the open door of her apartment, glaring at the two reasonably small boxes sat by the door as if it was they who were the ones ruining his life. He heard a clatter from the bedroom and flung the door open, staring as she stuffed clothes into her duffle bag and cursed when it wouldn't do up. "Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?" She matched his angry tone, not caring who complained at the volume level – it was not like she was going to see any of her neighbours ever again.

"Leaving without a goodbye. Or even an explanation." His voice was bitter and harsh.

"I wrote a letter." She pulled out the green satin dress and threw it on the bed – it was the least useful of all of her clothes and it would only serve to bring back memories that she was determined to forget along with all of her emotions as she reverted back to the dutiful Mossad officer.

"I know." He held the offending paper up. It hurt him that she wasn't taking the dress, like she was discarding one of his favourite weekends of work. They weren't even supposed to keep the clothes from their missions, but with that one they did. It wasn't like anyone else would want to wear them. It fuelled his anger even more. "It would have been nice of you to tell me yourself, not just write it in a letter and expect me not to care!"

"I was going to tell you last night, but you did not turn up." She snapped.

"I was busy, Ziva!"

"Then whose fault is it? I am sorry I do not organise my life around you!"

"It really seems like you do, though! You make sure you are at work before me, leave after me! What else am I supposed to think when you completely drop everything you are doing and reschedule appointments when I call you?"

"Think like a man, Tony! No, better yet, think like you!" She screamed, looking at him for the first time since he had barged into her apartment. She used aggression to mask how she really felt, barely managing to restrain herself from running into his arms and weeping. She slammed her fist against the dresser instead.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It is supposed to mean 'Why do you never look at me in the same way you look at every other single woman on the planet?'!" She turned back to unpacking, removing one last garment and finally managing to get the bulging bag to zip closed.

"Oh, you really want me to leer at you and drool over you, do you?" He scoffed. "So that would make all of your comments on how chauvinistic and juvenile I am what? Jealousy?"

"Tony, get out of my way." She slung the bag over her shoulder and tried to push past him as he blocked her exit from the room.

"Why? So you can run away?"

"So I can catch my flight!"

"I'll take that as a yes, then." He didn't budge, standing firm. Yes, she had taken down many doors in her time, and many men for that matter, but so had he and he was going to do his best impression of a plank of wood if it delayed her.

"I am not running away!" She snarled and tried to force her way past him again.

"You declared your love for me in a letter and now you're packing your bags and leaving to another country. I'd call that running away!"

"I am going home. Let me through!"

"This is your home, Ziva!"

"No, Tony! This is not my home! Israel is my home!" She finally squeezed past him and slammed the bag to the ground next to the two boxes before turning around and marching up to him, only now realising how tall he actually was. "And what does it matter to you that I am going back anyway? It is not like you care."

"I care because you are breaking the team up, Ziva. My team!"

"We were already broken, DiNozzo. We were just a bunch of broken toys and a puppet master and without the puppet master we are back to being lifeless, dysfunctional characters." Her voice dropped so quiet that after the shouting it was hard to hear her.

"Gibbs didn't break us."

"No, he just left us as an inanimate pile of broken playthings that no child would ever want to play with." She bit back, liking her simile. Or was it a metaphor? She could not remember. She picked the bag back up and lifted the two boxes.

"You can't just confess your undying love for me and then leave! That's not how it's supposed to work!" He followed her out into the hall, glaring as a door opened and an angry face poked out.

"This is not one of your stupid damn movies!" She screamed at him. "I had to tell you. I thought it was only right that you knew the true reason why I am leaving!"

"You did not have to tell me! I was getting on just fine before you wrote all of this!"

"And I was getting on fine before you smiled at me!"

"Is that what you fell in love with? My smile? That is pathetic!" He resorted to insults as his armoury of arguments depleted.

"I fell in love with all of you, Tony!" She hurried down the stairs as fast as she could whilst the boxes in her arms impaired her vision. "But you would not know what love was if I hit you in the face with it!"

"I'll have you know I am in a committed relationship, thank you very much!" Was possibly the worst thing he could have yelled in this situation, but him being Tony and not having the gift of forethought, he did as she shoved the boxes and her bag into the back of a taxi and slammed the boot.

"I know, Tony! I see you run off to her every day! I see you phoning her when you should be working! And I see the artifice! The little tricks and lies you tell yourself to try and prove that it is working!"

"Don't get into that taxi, Ziva!" There was no point in denying her comment, so he grabbed her wrist as she opened the door.

"Get your hand off of me, Tony." He just stared at her. "I said 'get your hand off of me.' What part of English do you not understand?" She had pulled him round and used his grasp on her wrist as leverage to slam him into the side of the taxi, the driver looking at them with fear-filled eyes. If he had know his last fare of the day would be so much trouble, he would have given it to someone else. He just wanted to go home and eat the leftover pizza in his fridge. He could drive off and leave the two of them on the curb arguing, but the crazy chick had already put her stuff in the back and the way the Italian-looking guy was pinned to the door did not make it look like driving away would be life enhancing, for the poor Italian-looking guy with his arm twisting behind his back, at least.

"I am tired of lying, Tony." She let him go and the taxi driver realised that during his musings he seemed to have missed the end of what appeared to actually be quite an interesting lovers' tiff. From what he could gather, the crazy chick loved the Italian-looking guy, but he didn't love her, so she was leaving him and what sounded like a family too, though he wasn't quite sure who would call a kid 'McGee'. And now the crazy chick was getting in the cab and he would have to drive her to the airport. In rush hour traffic. His day couldn't get worse.

"Er, you okay Miss?" He asked as he caught her swipe tears from her eyes before they even had a chance to fall.

"Fine." She immediately composed herself, remembering that she was in the presence of others.

"Where are you going to, when you get to the airport if you don't mind my asking?" He liked making conversation – it was why he had become a taxi-driver in the first place – and the crazy chick seriously looked like she needed someone to talk to.

"Tel Aviv." She watched as the streets flickered by, a blur as she focused her mind on trying to erase her memories of the past year. Maybe pretend nothing had happened and she was still Mossad through and through.

"Israel, huh? Dangerous place."

"No. This place is much more dangerous." She muttered. "This place can hurt you in ways you do not get prepared for. This place gives you a chance to pause, relax your guard."

"If you say so." He chuckled slightly. "So who was he?"

"Hm?"

"The guy you left on the curb, staring at you as you left."

"Nobody." He sensed that the conversation was over and lapsed into silence. The rest of the journey seemed to drag on in the silence, but every time he opened his mouth to say something, he thought better of it. She flashed him a slight weak smile when she handed him the money and climbed out, switching on autopilot as she dropped the four letters, three to NCIS and one to Mexico, into the post box and she went through the routines of air travel.

She was not certain why she sent a letter to Gibbs. Abby, Ducky and McGee were obvious, but Gibbs had left them, did not want to hear from them again. And yet his was the only other one that contained the truth. Maybe because he was the only one who knew the rest of the truth about her and she wanted him to know everything. She wanted him to know that no matter what sort of a person she was she had a heart, all be it in the wrong place, and she was doing what she was doing to keep the team, his team, safe.

She stared at DC out of the window of the plane one last time as it grew smaller and smaller before closing her eyes and allowing herself to dream of Anthony DiNozzo one last time before she put up walls to block her memories of NCIS forever.

* * *

She laughed at him as he sat across from her at the high-end restaurant, telling a story and his mind completely distracted from Monica. He really did have nice eyes and a charming smile. Maybe she should have let him find a use for the lingerie after all. She smiled and tilted her head slightly as she tried to decide whether he was having the same thought. She knew that as he paid the bill their day would be over and she wanted to prolong the inevitable. It was strange how they managed to get to the bedroom of the hotel so quickly, and how she had managed to change what she was wearing. She had most definitely not been wearing the green dress to dinner, they had gone straight from work and there was not a chance in hell that she had been wearing something like this to work. But there he was, handing money to the hotel porter and looking dashing in what she was certain was definitely not NCIS dress code. But whether it was dress code or not, it did not matter as the tux ended on the floor a fair distance from the bed and the scent of Javier Christian No. 5 filled the room.


	4. Empty

**I realise that nobody quite likes the way I left this, so I have decided to write one last part, split into two chapters. Here's the first.**

Empty

The world was empty. Desolate. An hour passed whilst he stood, staring at the spot where the taxi had disappeared around the corner. He turned away and walked through the door to her apartment building, up the stairs and through the door she had left wide open. He sat on the sofa and stared at the framed photo of him, Abby and Ziva. She had left it behind. She had left all the photos of everyone at NCIS. Even the photos of her and Jenny from before NCIS. She had left the furniture too. Mossad probably paid for the apartment, they'd probably sanitise the place as soon as he left. He took the letter from his pocket and read it through again and again, not turning the light on when it grew dark. He lived, zombified, in her apartment. Showering when he needed a shower, eating burnt toast when he needed to eat, sleeping in her bed when he needed sleep, and reading the letter the rest of the time – often with an accompanying whiskey. He memorised every word, every letter. He memorised the little quirks in her handwriting, the loops and curls. It reminded him of her hair, the way it almost flowed in waves across the page, like her hair flowed in waves over her shoulders.

* * *

"Neither Agent DiNozzo or Officer David have turned up in four days." Michelle said as the director walked over to Gibbs' – Tony's – desk.

"They've probably eloped." McGee muttered under his breath as he picked up an envelope sat on the top of his pile of mail. "The UST was really starting to build in here."

"I wish, Agent McGee. I wish." Jenny sat down in Ziva's desk chair. "I have given Agent DiNozzo a few days off." Not that she had spoken to Tony, but she didn't think that there was any point in complaining when he didn't turn up. Not after Ziva.

"She's gone." McGee dropped into his seat and stared at the paper in his hand. "This what the letter to Tony said?"

"I think his was longer." Jenny sighed.

"Why'd she give his to him instead of sending it through the mail?"

"I think she wanted him to know straight away."

"Is she still in the country?"

"Her flight left four days ago. She would have reached Tel Aviv three days ago."

"And she just left, without even saying goodbye?"

"I am sorry, Agent McGee. This team will be on the side-lines whilst you get back on your feet." Director Sheppard stood up and nodded. "It will give you some time to catch up on your paperwork.

"Yes, Director." Agents Lee and McGee nodded, just as the heavy footfalls of chained leather platform boots clomped towards them.

"Timmy, Timmy, Timmy, Timmy, Timmy!" Abby wailed as she barrelled into him. "She's left us! Timmy, she's gone! Ziva's gone!"

"I know, I know…" Tim sighed and wrapped his arms around his best friend, nodding to Agent Lee as she scurried away.

"Tony must be so upset, we should go and see him."

"I can't find him, not answering his phone at home."

"Try Ziva's." She stated, like it was the most obvious thing.

"He's not going to be there." McGee shook his head but picked his phone and dialled Ziva's home number. He shook his head and sighed. "No answer."

"Well, lets just go over there. Maybe it's all just a joke and they're both sat there laughing." She smiled, hopeful.

"No, Abs. They're not." He shook his head.

"But we could just try." He sighed. She wouldn't believe Ziva wasn't coming back without seeing it for her own eyes.

* * *

"Abby, if you want me to pick this lock and get us in there, then get out of the way." McGee sighed as he struggled, finally managing to get the door unlocked.

"Tony!" Abby ran over and threw her arms around Tony as he continued to stare at the wall in front of him. The pages of the letter were scattered across the glass coffee table and McGee picked the first one up and began to read, not stopped by Tony, who sat still – unfazed by Abby's smothering hug. He whistled as he skimmed across the words.

"Tony, I'm…"

"Apologies are a sign of weakness, Tim. You're not weak." He didn't have the energy to tease his favourite probie. There just wasn't any point anymore. McGee and Abby exchanged a glance. He was broken. Ziva had left and broken Tony.

"She really loved you."

"That's why she's not here, McGee." He sighed and emptied the last of the whiskey in his glass. "I distracted her too much. I hurt her too much."

"She never says in the letter that you hurt her." McGee sat down on the other side of Ziva's sofa.

"But I could see it in her eyes when she got into the cab." He continued to stare forwards into nothingness. "How long since she left?"

"Four days."

"And I guess the director wants me back." He didn't get up, just stayed still – emotionless.

"No, she's given us some time to catch up with paperwork." McGee flicked his eyes to Abby again. They were both worried about him.

"I should be there."

"No, Tony. Not if you don't want to be." Abby shook her head. "Why don't we take you home?"

"I want to stay here. I like it here."

"It doesn't feel like Ziva's place anymore. It's empty, Tony." Abby tugged on his arm, trying to persuade him up.

 _Like my heart._ He said internally, not budging. "Abby, just go home or go back to work or something. Just leave me here to think. I'll be back tomorrow." He wanted to be alone for one more night. He wanted to sleep in her bed for just one more night. McGee shook his head when Abby started to protest and stood up, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and guiding her away, closing the door behind them.

"He needs some time, Abs." McGee murmured as they drove back to her place, not seeing any point in going back to the navy yard.

"Do you think he loved her?" She asked.

"I don't know, Abs. I really don't know. On one hand, it's Tony – he falls in and out of love on a daily basis. However," He stopped her before she could argue the contrary, "it's Tony and Ziva, and I think behind all of the jokes and the flirting and the teasing there really was something there." He sighed.

"Do you think she'll come back?" Abby's voice was almost pleading. They'd already lost Gibbs, they couldn't lose Ziva too. He stopped the car outside her apartment and turned to look at her.

"Abby, I don't think she'll come back. She's made up her mind." Her hope was shattered. "Go on. Get some sleep. We'll all be back tomorrow and get on with our work."

"We won't _all_ be back tomorrow, Timmy." She said as she climbed out of the car. "Ziva won't be back."

* * *

The whole bullpen was silent, aside from the tap of computer keys. It had been silent since Ziva had left. There was no laughter, no jokes or teasing. Even those who didn't know her, or at least not well, felt the absence. For a week and a half Anthony DiNozzo had only opened his mouth to bark orders at people. He didn't flirt, didn't leer, just worked. It was as if he were mourning her and, in a way, he was. Someone made the mistake of joking that it wasn't like she was dead or anything, she just transferred. Tony had lost it, yelled at the poor man until his voice was hoarse and then some. The director had stood and watched from the balcony and, although not condoning Tony's actions, she didn't intervene. He needed to let his anger out on someone and it was better he let it out on a federal agent who should be able to handle it than a suspect who could cause trouble if they angered DiNozzo.

"Hey!" A loud, recognisable voice cut through the silence as what some may say a sight for sore eyes stormed over to Tony. A harsh crack resounded around the squad room as his hand collided with the back of Tony's head. "Boss?"

"DiNozzo, I'm not your boss." He hauled him out of his chair and dragged him towards the elevator, glaring at anyone who dared stare. "What the hell are you playing at?!"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I thought you would be the one person able to keep this team together. You screwed up, DiNozzo."

"You don't think I haven't realised that? How'd you even know?" He glared.

"Got a letter." Gibbs shrugged and pulled the envelope out of his jacket. He handed it to Tony who, after hesitating, pulled the letter out and read it.

"She told you the truth. Only other person who got the truth apparently." He finished reading it and stuffed it back in the envelope. "Closest next was Ducky."

"They're close."

"Why?" Tony asked.

"Dunno. They understand one another. Both been through war, both away from their homeland." He gave a classic Gibbs shrug.

"You've been through war. That why you two got on?"

"That pertinent to why she's not here?"

"No, Gibbs. I guess it's not."

"You love her, DiNozzo?"

"I…"

"It's a simple question."

"And I don't have an answer."

"How can you not have an answer? You either love her or you don't."

"I guess…" Tony started.

"You guess?"

"Hell, she's Ziva. She's agile and aggressive and beautiful and clever and crazy and daring and exotic and fierce and fiery and great and gallant and honest and…"

"You got a alphabet of things describing Ziva?"

"I had a lot of time to think." He blushed slightly.

"What d'ya get for 'Z'?"

"Ziva." Tony shrugged and Gibbs chuckled. "I really did screwed it up, didn't I?"

"It was a disaster waiting to happen, Tony. I just wish I had been here when it had. I might have been able to talk to her, try and persuade her not to go."

"I tried to, boss. I did…"

"You think that you trying to convince her not to go when you were the reason she was leaving was actually going to work?"

"Yeah, maybe not the best plan."

"Ya'think?"

Tony took a deep breath and looked at his not-boss. "Okay then, how do I fix it?"

* * *

"Jethro, I can't help with this. Mossad won't even give me satellite time to talk with her. My contacts shut off completely when I ask about her. She is so connected there that she's in an impenetrable safe formed from trained assassins and spies."

"I'll find my way in. I just need you to clear DiNozzo's absence."

"You're not even an agent anymore Gibbs." She sighed and looked at his face. "He has three days. I think I might be able to get you two seats on the next flight to Tel Aviv. Leaves in three quarters of an hour."

"Thank you, Jen." Gibbs nodded.

"What happened to rule 12?"

"Sometimes it does more harm than good to follow the rules, Jen."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Rule 6 is being bypassed on this one too." He shrugged and headed back out of the office, signalling for Tony to follow as he walked to the elevator. "Plane leaves in three quarters of an hour, DiNozzo. Get a bag. We have three days for you to clean your mess up."

"Rule 45." Tony muttered as they hurried to his car.

"Yeah, DiNozzo."

"What if she won't talk to me?"

"I'll make her. You been taking driving lessons from Ziva? Your driving's awful!" He grabbed the dash of Tony's mustang as the car swerved across the road.

"Comes with the coffee." Tony grumbled. "Next thing you know I'll be building a damn boat in the basement."

"You don't have a basement."

"Then I'll move into a house with a basement first." He slammed the breaks on and dashed into his apartment, stuffing clothes into a bag without even looking. He was back out of the apartment before Gibbs had even walked up the stairs. "You're getting slow."

"No, I'm just not in a big hurry." He shrugged. "I should be on a beach in Mexico right now."

* * *

"You took your time." She didn't turn around from where she sat at a desk, writing up a report.

"Mexico's not known for its postal service." She could hear the shrug in his voice. "How'd you know it was me?"

"You are in a building full of spies. It is impossible to sneak in here without who ever it is you are trying to surprise finding out. And you did not exactly sneak." She pushed the computer monitor around so he could see a surprisingly clear surveillance image of him making a scene in the lobby of the Mossad building. He laughed.

"We need to talk."

"I do not want to."

"Why'd you send me a letter?"

"Because I wanted you to know that I had a heart and an ability to love."

"Have."

"What?"

"You still have a heart."

"Gibbs, I do not want to get into this now. Not here."

"Okay then." He shrugged and she finally turned to look at him. "Where?"

"Somewhere I know no-one is watching me." She stood up, careful to keep her distance. He followed her back through the lobby, throwing a dirty look to two of the security guards he'd argued with to gain access. "They are both trained killers, Gibbs. I really advise that you do not aggravate them any more than you already have done today." She muttered.

"Where we going?"

"A place where I feel safe. And know that DiNozzo is not going to jump out and tell me he is sorry and expect me to believe him." She snapped. "He can go back home for all I care."

"You don't mean that."

"I do." They argued as they walked to her car and he gingerly climbed in. He knew his driving was...not for the faint of heart, but he did that on purpose. Her driving was just downright dangerous. They sat in silence as she jumped from small gap to smaller gap between the cars in rush-hour traffic, her little red mini not putting up much protest as she squeezed into gaps he didn't think were big enough. A sure-fire tactic to avoid being followed. He realised that maybe, just maybe, her driving was more of a survival technique than anything else. It wasn't dangerous, it was sensible. In a completely bonkers world, yes. But that was her world. Her driving was developed to protect her from any danger. He watched her face as she focused. It wasn't careless. It was precise, calculated and surprisingly effective. They made it to the little house in the middle of nowhere fast.

"Where are we?"

"The David Family home." She said sarcastically and snorted. "Some family." He thought he heard her mutter under her breath, but he couldn't be certain.

"Director David won't be coming home early?"

"Director David has an apartment in Tel Aviv, close to headquarters. He does not use this place. My aunt Nettie keeps it for him when I am not here."

"And Aunt Nettie won't be coming home tonight?"

"She might be getting old, Gibbs, but as I am sure Ducky will tell you, old people can have some fun too." She chuckled then paused and turned around as they stood in the living room of the open house. "How are they all?"

"Wasn't there long enough to find out." He shrugged. He hadn't had time and it wasn't his aim to stick around and chat with them anyway. "You said you didn't feel safe at Mossad."

"I shall remind you again that I work with spies and trained killers. Only a fool would feel safe." She swallowed and looked at his face before walking into his fatherly embrace. "I have missed you." Her voice wavered and he felt moisture soaking into his shirt where she cried.

"I'm here now." He soothed, rubbing her back and suddenly flashing back to holding Kelly when he arrived home one time, how she had cried and begged him not to leave again. It was something he expected from Abby, but he was not overly surprised when Ziva started crying. She had killed her brother to save him, after all. If that didn't give them a connection then what did? She pulled back and he sighed at the sight of her. "You look tired."

"Every time I try to sleep I dream of him."

"Well, no-one wants that." He chuckled and led her to the sofa, where he sat down and she curled up beside him and rested her head in his lap. "Why'd you leave?"

"I said in the letter. I could not work with him every day and see him and want him and need him and know that it is unrequited and I cannot have him. It would destroy me."

"Who says it is unrequited?"

"He never looks at me in the way he looks at other women."

"Ziva, he leers at other women lustfully. He doesn't look at you like that because he looks at you in a different way."

"That is what I am saying."

"Have you ever looked at his eyes when he's looking at you? Properly looked?"

"They are always empty."

"No, they are always so full. You see the absence of lust in them, or at least the absence of the lust that you usually see in them. You don't see what replaces that." He caressed her hair, reminding him even more of Kelly.

"He cares for me only as a friend."

"He cares for you a lot more than you realise. You know, he wrote an alphabet of adjectives describing you." He chuckled slightly as she turned her head and stared at him. "I'm not kidding. I got him to show me on the plane."

"Were they any good?"

"They were…imaginative." He laughed. "They showed how much he studied you."

"What were they?"

"I'll let him tell you if he wants. But you have to talk to him."

"That is bribery."

"That's life." He shrugged. "He lights up like a Christmas tree when you enter the room. You wouldn't notice because you don't see him when you're not it the room, but he does. His whole mood changes."

"How?" She turned her head back to face forwards as Gibbs continued to stroke her hair.

"He can be in the worst mood ever, grouchy and grumpy, and then you walk in and he's like a different person. Cheerful and happy and full of life."

"He is grouchy when I am around too."

"You've never seen him in a proper grouch. Not one of his full-blown, temper-tantrum, volatile, explosive bad moods. It was at it's worst before Kate joined and having her around gave him something to play with, something to distract him, but she could never pacify him by just walking into the room."

"So you are telling me that he loved Kate but my brother killed her so he transferred his love of her onto me?"

"No, he loved her like a sister. He got angry with her too. He was like he is with McGee with her. With you it's like he can sense when you are in a room."

"I doubt that."

"I watched the security tape of the squad room the day you arrived."

"What?" She sat bolt upright.

"I didn't know how far I could trust you. You saved me, yeah, but you're also a spy and an assassin. I wanted to check you hadn't planted bugs or done something that would get my team killed."

"Is there a point to this?"

"He came in hung-over and grumpy. You watched him walk in."

"Yes. I said his hair was like a porcupine." She smiled at the memory.

"Even though he was wary of you, he visibly brightened at your presence. He still didn't like you at that point, not consciously at least, but there were little things, the subtle change of his posture, his expression. Even not knowing you, you managed to almost calm him."

"Now you are being ridiculous. He hated me."

"He'd just lost a friend, a colleague. I told you, they were like siblings."

"Why did he not say something when he had the chance then?"

"Because he didn't realise how deep his feelings really were. Love doesn't come easily to DiNozzo." He said and she scoffed. "Don't confuse lust and need with love, Ziva. He hasn't had an easy time with love."

"None of us have, Gibbs."

"Tony doesn't express how he feels well."

"For someone who spends his whole life talking, he really says very little."

"Precisely." He nodded and held an arm out for her to curl up next to him again. He'd missed having Abby's hugs, or hugs from anyone really. Mike wasn't someone you hug. Mike wasn't someone he could ever imagine wanting to hug. "You need to talk to him."

"It can never happen."

"Why not?"

"Because I am here and he is there. I doubt Mossad will let me transfer out again, and I doubt the team will want me back and there are rules, Gibbs. Big rules. Like 12."

"Well, I am sure that between the directors of the FBI, CIA and NCIS, I think there might just be enough favours owed to get back our liaison officer, to promote and strengthen political ties with our allies. And I wouldn't be so sure about the team not wanting you back. It was silent in there when I arrived. McGee was wearing a black suit and tie; Tony was scruffy – like he hadn't even bothered. The new one sat in McGee's old desk looked timid."

"I found Agent Lee often looks like that." Ziva shrugged.

"You like her?"

"She is a lawyer."

"Enough said." Gibbs laughed and kissed the top of her head. "No doubt Abby is dressed for your funeral right now."

"What about the rules?"

"Some of them are more…guidelines than actual rules."

"So… Rule 12 is just a guideline?"

"Rule 12 is there to prevent the awkwardness when things go wrong. It is to create peace."

"Then why are you saying we can break it?"

"Because you and DiNozzo have been through so much that you won't take it for granted."

"Why did you let McGee and Abby break it then?"

"Ziva, do you really thing that those two are able to have a messy break-up with one another. They love each other too much for that. They would do anything for the other."

"Then why did it not work between them? If they loved each other so much?" She was confused.

"There's more than one way to love, Ziva. Abby and Tim love each other in every way possible, which makes for a difficult relationship. If you love someone as a brother and a friend and a protector and a lover and possibly even a father in circumstances, it just doesn't work. You don't love Tony as a brother or a father."

"How do you know?"

"Because you would never look at him in the same way you do if you thought of him as a brother."

"I do not understand this whole looking and loving thing." She buried her head into his shoulder and he grinned.

"You'll learn. With time you'll learn." They stayed on the sofa, listening to each other's breathing until the sky darkened outside and Ziva drifted off to sleep, a smile fixed on her lips. Gibbs gently scooped her up when he was certain he wouldn't wake her and carried her through the house, looking for her bedroom. After opening doors to bedrooms that seemed almost shrine-like, untouched from when they were last used by each person, he reached Ziva's, the attic room. He smiled at how bright the room was, lit by table lamps and freestanding lamps. There was a skylight that showed the stars above her bed and he wondered if the glass was bullet resistant like he guessed the rest of the windows were. More than likely. He lay her down on the soft white cotton sheets and turned, stopping when his gaze fell on a picture of the whole of her family sat on the small desk. Mother, Father, two daughters and a half brother.

"Ari had come to visit." She said sleepily. "Mother was not comfortable with him being in the house, but I loved having him around and Father demanded that he stay. We spent the whole weekend together, I only remember the laughing, but I know that there was a lot of shouting, too." Gibbs stood and listened. "That is the only weekend I remember my Mother and Father spending together. Not even when my best friend died did they join me to come to the funeral." She pointed to the photo next to the one of her family. It showed a young girl and boy, crying with laughter and covered in dust and dirt. "He died two weeks after that photo was taken. I was twelve. I went to his funeral alone."

"Ziva." He looked at her sympathetically.

"I lose all the people I love eventually. They all die."

"I know." He walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. "But they die whether you love them or not."

"Sometimes I think it is just me."

"You think that if you allow yourself to love people, it will put them in danger." He nodded. He knew the feeling. "Everyone feels like that at one point in their life, but we feel it worse. Suppose it's more an occupational hazard than anything." She yawned and he smiled. "Get some sleep, Ziva." She yawned again and nodded. "Lilah tov."

"Lilah tov, Abba." She murmured as she succumbed to the deep, inviting sleep. He kissed her forehead and walked carefully down the stairs so as not to wake her. He took out his phone and, putting his glasses on, he typed the address and directions into a text and sent it to his senior field agent. Then, he shut the light in the lounge off and settled on the sofa, relaxing in the eerie stillness of the 'David family home'.

* * *

She stirred to voices floating up from downstairs. She ran through yesterday's events in the hope that she might be mistaken as to who it was talking in her kitchen, but to no avail. She knew the two masculine voices. She looked up at the skylight. Tali had, after some convincing, helped her climb out through it one time, late at night. She had managed to balance a chair on a box to get it to the right height, and had then scrambled down the roof. Getting back in had been a problem. Her father had caught her and spent a whole month ignoring her for disobeying his orders not to see the boy she had crept out to visit. The smell of burnt toast brought her out of her reverie and she realised that either one of the men could be cooking if they had managed to burn the toast. She slipped out of bed and pulled on her light robe over the cotton camisole and shorts she had slipped on after Gibbs had headed downstairs the night before. She took one final breath before heading towards the kitchen. Both men fell silent when she entered and nodded to them each in turn, glaring at Gibbs and not allowing her eyes to meet Tony's. She gasped when he crossed the room in two steps and pulled her into a hug to contend with Abby.

"I am so sorry. I have missed you so much." He held her tight, restricting all movement as he closed his eyes and kept his faced hidden in her hair. She was stiff with shock at his boldness as he continued to hug her, but as his warmth started to envelope her she relaxed, melting into his body. She clenched her hands into fists around the fabric of his shirt along the side-seams and leant her head into the side of his neck, closing her eyes to the world and for the moment just allowing herself to be content in his arms, not caring that they had a lot to talk about or that she was still petrified that he would see who she really was. She just concentrated on the fact that he had his arms around her and it seemed like the first rays of sunshine had finally hit her since she had arrived in Israel. As tears began to roll down her cheeks and splash onto his shoulder he started to pull away, forcing her only to release his shirt from her hands and reach around his back to hug him tighter.

"Please. Not yet." She whispered, needing longer with his arms around her before she would be able to face the tasks ahead of her.

"As you wish." He stroked her back soothingly, letting her breathing slow into a regular pattern and her hands move to his shoulders before he pulled away gently. She turned away to wipe the tears from her cheeks as he stared at the empty space where Gibbs had been standing.

"He is outside." She pointed to the window looking out onto the olive grove and the silver haired man as he stood by the closest tree, a mug of coffee in hand. "I do not have any coffee here."

"He brought his own." Tony held up the bag of coffee beans.

"How very Gibbs." Ziva smiled. "Who burnt the toast?"

"I did. I was going to make breakfast for you but…" He trailed off and pointed to the pile of blackened bread. "Your toaster doesn't like me."

"You have to hit it when you want it to stop or it will just keep on toasting." She nodded. "Can I get you anything less burnt to eat? I might have some yogurt in the fridge?"

"No, it's fine." The atmosphere grew tense as they both tried to find ways to delay the inevitable. "Unless you wanted something?"

"I am not hungry." She shook her head.

"Okay." He nodded. The silence lapsed over them again as they stood in the kitchen, watching Gibbs drink his coffee. "It's so hot here."

"I do not notice the heat anymore. I grew up in it."

"You grew up here, didn't you?" He knew the answer, and she knew that he knew the answer, but they both needed something to talk about that wasn't going to take them into the dangerous territory of questions that had to be asked and truthfully answered.

"Yes." She nodded. "As a child I climbed the trees out there."

"What were you like as a child?" He asked, trying to imagine a young Ziva.

"I was naïve. I was innocent." She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. "I remember laughing a lot."

"You laugh a lot now."

"Not like I used to. I used to believe that there was good in everybody. That one day, in my lifetime, there would be world peace and everyone would be happy and Mother and Father would laugh and talk to one another and Ari would be able to stay more often and there would be more time for dancing and running around than there was for schoolwork." She smiled, lost in her memory. Tony's brow crinkled. He looked at her, trying to work out if he heard her right.

"Ari?"

"In Arabic it means 'brings rain' and in Hebrew it means 'lion'. I used to think him lucky that his name meant something in two languages." She was still caught up in her musings, not realising what she had said.

"Ari?" He questioned again, staring at something far off in the distance. This time Ziva caught on to what he meant and gasped. They stared at one another, Tony not masking his horror. "As in Haswari?"

"Yes." She looked down at her clasped hands.

"Why were you wishing Haswari would stay here more?" His voice wavered.

"His name was Ari. Do not call him Haswari."

"He killed Kate. Why should I give him the honour?" Tony spat, everything he had known over the past year crumbling.

"Because you did not know him. He was a good person." She should never have mentioned it.

"He was a terrorist."

"Yes, he was when you met him, but he was my brother and he was a good man." She definitely should not have mentioned that.

"He was your brother?" A mix of emotions passed across his face, horror, shock, confusion, anger. "How can we trust you when your brother was a terrorist?"

"You do not trust me?"

"I don't know how I can."

"You have managed so far. A whole year you have been able to trust me, and now this means that you cannot any more?"

"Yes."

"Why, just because you now know who my brother was?" She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"I just…if we could trust you then it would never have been kept as a secret!"

"If I had told you you would never have trusted me. He had just killed your friend!"

"So you finally admit that he did, because the way I remember it you were adamant he was innocent!"

"I know he killed her!"

"You knew and you still tried to convince us he was innocent?"

"No, I did not know. I believed he was innocent. He was my brother!" Gibbs had expected shouting, but not so soon. He hurried through the house and into the kitchen.

"So what changed your mind?!"

"He confessed!"

"Did you know that Haswari was her brother?" Tony pointed at her accusingly as Gibbs looked at her. She nodded subtly.

"Yes. I knew."

"Did you know before you killed him?" Gibbs inhaled, his eyes not leaving Ziva's face.

"No." He shook his head. "I didn't know before I killed him."

"Gibbs, I do not think that lying to Tony now would be a good idea."

"Ziver, don't forget where we are."

"This house is safe. I sweep it for bugs regularly." She looked at him. "He deserves the truth and I do not want to lie anymore."

"If you say so." He shrugged and walked through to the living room. Tony and Ziva followed, Tony angry, Ziva ashamed. She pulled her robe around her tighter, feeling cold even in the sweltering heat.

"Gibbs did not kill Ari." She stayed standing whilst the two men sat on the sofa.

"Oh, great. So her psyco terrorist brother is still wandering around? I thought you would have at least told us Gibbs!"

"Ari is dead, DiNozzo." Gibbs sighed.

"I'm confused. Either he is dead or he is not dead."

"He is dead." Gibbs assured him.

"Then who killed the bastard?!" The room fell silent.

"I. Killed. Ari." She took rasping breaths between each word. The air grew heavy, tension building.

"You killed your brother?" He asked incredulously.

"Yes."

"Then why did you not just tell me?"

"I was his control officer. He was my brother. Our father is the director of Mossad. He was a Hamas terrorist. Do you think that me broadcasting the fact that I killed him would be life enhancing? It would be like signing my own death warrant. Every officer of Mossad, every Hamas terrorist would have been after me. Who knows who else would want me dead. I am still not convinced that at the moment you do not want me dead right now." He stayed icy silent, not looking at her.

"Ziva…"

"I know, Gibbs. I should not have said that." She paused. "Please say something."

"You killed your brother."

"I know. I was there." She muttered.

"Why'd you do it?"

"He was not innocent. He was going to kill Gibbs." She turned away and stared at a photo on the mantle piece of her, Tali and Ari. "I trusted him. He was my big brother. He taught me to ride my bike and climb trees and I loved him. I trusted him and he betrayed me."

"So you killed him?"

"And saved me." Tony turned to stare at his boss. "That a problem, DiNozzo?"

"I don't know, boss." He looked away. "I mean, we've been lied to for the past year." He shook his head and headed outside, leaving Ziva and Gibbs in the sitting room.

"I'll handle it." He followed his senior field agent. She just walked over to the corner of the room and slid down the wall to curl up on the hard-wood flooring, bringing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. She tried to ignore the shouting that travelled in from outside and just thanked whatever higher power that would listen that they were in the middle of nowhere so no-one would hear the two men shouting about her.

* * *

"Gibbs. She lied to us!"

"So did I." He walked out of the house and Tony glared at him. He'd been practicing with his glares, he'd gotten better.

"And that's not forgiven, but she lied to me and then had the audacity to tell me she loves me?!"

"And you followed her out here because you love her back."

"Loved, Gibbs."

"Fine then, you loved her before you knew this – what's changed?"

"Oh, I don't know, the fact that she's related to Haswari, she killed him not you, she lied about it?"

"That was all the same before, DiNozzo." Gibbs said calmly.

"Context changes things."

"How, DiNozzo? So what, now you know a truth that could get both you and her killed if anyone else found out? It doesn't change who she is, doesn't change the fact that she loves you, that you love her."

"It does!"

"Does it? She's still the same Ziva you have known for the last year. Nothing has happened to change that. Are you really so shallow, DiNozzo?"

"Shallow? I just don't like being lied to!"

"You lied to her."

"What?"

"You lied to her. You never told her how you felt about her."

"I never lied. I never told her I didn't love her!"

"You never told her you did." Gibbs shrugged, not showing the cracks that were starting to break in his calm exterior. Shouting at DiNozzo wasn't going to help anything.

"Lying by omission is not the same as down-right lying!"

"She never down-right lied to you!"

"She told us she was his control officer."

"The truth. Mossad, DiNozzo, is like one big, happy family."

"She told us you killed Ari."

"No. She never mentioned Ari's death. She never mentioned Ari. I was the one who lied about Ari. And I did so to keep her safe. Alive." He stood in silence, a petulant child not wanting to believe what he was being told. "She lied by omission too."

"How do we know we can trust her? How can I know that she hasn't lied about anything else?"

"Do you trust _me_ , DiNozzo?" He watched as Tony deliberated, uncertainty flickering across his face.

"Yes."

"I trust her. With my life. She's not lying about anything else." Tony turned away and slammed his fist into the side of the rental car, recoiling and cradling his hand at the pain it caused. "Feel better now?"

"The car's real hot, boss." He pouted and Gibbs chuckled slightly.

"DiNozzo, you gonna run back home without finishing what you started?"

"Boss, I…"

"She loves you DiNozzo. She left a job and the protection it gave her to prove it." Gibbs looked at Tony's frown. "At NCIS we could give her protection if anyone at Mossad did manage to find out what really happened with Ari. We can't do that whilst she's here." He shrugged.

"Don't make me feel guilty boss." He sighed.

"I'm not. I'm telling you how much you mean to her."

"I need some time to think, boss."

"You don't got time, DiNozzo. Flights tomorrow morning, with or without her. Your choice." Tony sighed and shook his head, walking past Gibbs and back into the house. He looked up to the clear blue sky. It could only get better from here.


	5. Love Him

**Sometimes I wonder what key words people type in that make them stumble across fanfiction. Do you think about that too, or is it just me? It is probably just me.**

 **I was actually crying when I wrote the end of this. Full blown tears and everything. That might just be me though.**

 **This is the end now. I promise. No more. Sorry.**

Love Him

The water scolded her skin as she turned the shower up as hot as possible. She felt like she wanted to cry, but she couldn't. The tears just wouldn't. How had things gone wrong? It had been a relief to see him standing there, and she had felt so at home in his arms. And then she had to get lost in her thoughts. She had to open her mouth and tell the truth. That was what all these problems had stemmed from: the truth. If she had never told him she loved him, he would never have followed her out here. If she had never told the truth about Ari they would not be arguing like they were. Her skin acclimatised to the hot water and she turned it off, reaching for a towel. She couldn't hide from him forever – or at least not when he was downstairs in her house.

* * *

"Why're you mad at me boss?"

"'Cause you screwed this up twice already." Gibbs glared at him from across the living room.

"Gibbs…"

"DiNozzo. I don't wanna hear it." He snapped just as he heard the water stop running upstairs.

"How do I repair it?"

"You tell her the truth."

"What if I don't know the truth, boss?"

"Then go home. I'll go back to Mexico and she'll stay here. Is that what you want? To be away from her? 'Cause this is your last chance, DiNozzo, and to be honest if I were her I wouldn't give it to you."

"No?"

"No. You told her that you couldn't love her because of who her half-brother was. You told her that you couldn't trust her because of that. Do you love her?"

"I don't know…I can't imagine living without her, boss. Do you know how much it hurts when she isn't there?"

"Means you love her, DiNozzo." He shrugged, nodding to Ziva as she stood in the doorway. Her damp hair tumbled over her shoulders in ringlets and she wore a blue blouse and cargo pants. She had read somewhere that blue was supposed to symbolise truth. If it wasn't true then at least it was a comfortable blouse. Tony stood up awkwardly then sat back down.

"Tony, I…I am sorry, that I lied to you." She clasped her hands in front of her. "And I want you to know that I never lied about it to protect my life. Gibbs will have you believe that that is why I lied, but it is not… Anyone who knows about Ari's death would be guilty in Mossad standards. Most Mossad officers do not like Gibbs as it is. I lied to protect you. I do not care if they find out, my life is not worth what yours is, but if I was killed for it then there would be an investigation and if you were found to know about it then you would more than likely be sentenced to death. I could not let that happen."

"Ziva, I understand I just think…wait, you don't think your life is worth as much as mine?"

"I know it is not. I killed my own brother."

"You did it to save Gibbs." He stood up again and walked over to her. "Look, Ziva, I may have said some things earlier, but you cannot take any of that to heart. I'm an idiot. I say things without thinking. I act stupidly. God, I should never have let you come out here." He took her hands in his, holding them tighter when she tried to pull away. "Ziva, your life is the reason I turn up to work every day. Your smiling face. Your eyes. You. I don't know what I'd do with myself if I didn't see you every day. I had a taste of it, two weeks without you, and Abby and McGee will tell you I have been a horrible man. I don't deserve your love, Ziva, and Gibbs is right – you shouldn't give it to me."

"I cannot help but give it to you, Tony." She said quietly. "Even after this morning, I cannot think of loving any man more than I love you. Even as you were yelling at me, I could not help but love you. I felt my heart break because I knew that you could never love me after you found out I had lied."

"Ziva, I would give my life for you."

"I know, and that is why I left. I cannot imagine a world without you. I once asked a blind friend what it was like, not to see. He said that you got used to it, you adapted. He told me to sit with my eyes blindfolded closed for a day, and I did. I was difficult, not to be able to see at first, but by the end of the day I had learnt to listen, feel, smell. I had adapted. I was able to imagine a world without sight. But I cannot imagine a world without you. I cannot imagine a world without Anthony DiNozzo smiling and winking and joking. A world like that is a world that I would not want to be in, and if you give your life for me, then you would leave me all alone in a world without you. And I could not let you do that. I could not deprive the world of your smile." She reached up and ran her thumb along his dry, cracked lips. "Because it is a beautiful smile."

"Ziva David, my smile may well be beautiful, but I do not have eyes that can tell you both that everything will turn out alright and that you will be killed slowly and painfully all in the space of half an hour. I do not have a laugh that lights up the room. I do not have an immense ability to understand what people are going through and such a capability to love as you do. Somehow, even with everything you've seen, you manage to see the good in the world still, you manage to see the good in every man, woman and child who walks through NCIS, whether they be a killer, victim or witness. That is what I admire most about you. That and your ability to kill someone eighteen different ways with a paperclip." He grinned and she blushed slightly and nodded. "There is a flight back to DC tomorrow. Gibbs says that there are two options for me. Either I leave with you or I leave without you. I think he's wrong." Ziva raised her eyebrows and looked behind him to see where Gibbs was. Out of sight, although probably not out of earshot. "There is another option. One that I would take in a heartbeat if it meant staying with you. I would leave my position at NCIS. I would leave DC and America and I would come and live here, in Israel with you. You can teach me Hebrew and I get a job as a carpenter or an olive seller or something."

"Tony, as much as that sounds like a beautiful idea, and I could leave my position in Mossad and we could live happily ever after, it is not realistic, nor is it possible. It would be too dangerous. Besides, director David would not allow it, and I do not think my father would be to happy either." Tony frowned and tilted his head. "Gibbs." She clarified. "He would be hurt that you would abandon the team."

"Not if it was for true love."

"And is that what this is?" She smiled softly, a glint of hope in her eyes as he kissed the back of the hand he still had cradled in his.

"I cannot live without you for one day longer. I think that constitutes as true love. According to all the films at least, but if you have a better definition then by all means be my guest, officer David." He took as step back, releasing her hand and grinning.

"That suits me just fine." She laughed.

"Well, in that case…" He crossed back over to her and pressed a somehow passionate yet tender kiss to her lips, one hand cradling the back of her head as the other gently caressed the soft skin at her hip. "So Israel's out of the question, but what about Italy. Or Scotland – Ducky's always raving about how beautiful Scotland and Britain are. Or Iceland. I hear Iceland's pretty great." He leant his forehead against hers, their lips lightly brushing one another's as they spoke.

"I like DC just fine, Tony. Besides, I think we would miss Abby and McGee and Ducky too much."

"They could come with us." Tony just shrugged. "We could all leave murder behind us. Just be ordinary people with ordinary jobs."

"Would you really want that? I think we would get bored."

"Oh, I can think of many things to do to occupy our time." He chuckled.

"Tony, I think even you could get bored of sex over time."

"I was actually thinking golf, Zee-Vah. Although I would like to take a bet on how long it would take me to get bored." He grinned and she slapped his chest light-heartedly.

"Golf?"

"Yeah. I think Ducky and McGee would be fine."

"I cannot see Abby playing golf."

"Hmm, you're right. Maybe we would miss our lives of action. So what do you say?"

"I say I miss DC and I miss Abby and McGee and Ducky and Jenny and even maybe Palmer and Lee if I think about it for too long. I say I miss NCIS. I miss home."

"Then pack your bags, Sweetcheeks. I'm taking you home." He grinned and pressed his lips firmly to hers.

"Can we talk about the whole 'Sweetcheeks' thing because I am not sure…"

"Nope, sorry. You'll always be Sweetcheeks to me." He didn't let her finish.

"Tony?"

"Yes, Ziva?"

"Something is bothering me?"

"And what is it that is troubling you, my fair maiden?" She rolled her eyes but continued anyway.

"A carpenter?"

"Well, Harrison Ford started out as a carpenter, and look how far he's come." Tony pulled her into a hug, burying his face in her hair, not before nodding to Gibbs out of the window.

* * *

"It's beautiful here." Tony sighed, staring at the view.

"Mmm. Stay tonight. We are closer here to the airport than you would be at your hotel." Ziva said as they sat in the dusty shade of the largest of the olive trees in the grove.

"What about my luggage?"

"It is in the back of your hire car." She kept her eyes closed throughout the whole conversation as she leant against the rough, hard wood of the trunk.

"How did you know?"

"Gibbs would have told you to pack it. You ran a high risk coming here and there are people who want Gibbs dead, so he would have told you to pack it in case you needed to leave." She reached her hand across from where it had rested on her knee to clasp his. Her other hand picked up a small amount of the sandy soil and she opened her eyes as she watched the particles slip between her fingers, her palm. "Do you know what I love about olive trees?"

"No, I don't. Tell me." He watched her face as she smiled softly.

"They do not need good soil. The poorer the soil, the better the olives. They are so strong, so robust. As long as they are treated well, they can live for hundreds if not thousands of years. And they are modest. Their flowers are small and pale. They remind me of Gibbs."

"I can't imagine he'd know what to say to that."

"Me either." She looked up to the branches, the golden light that was filtering through the leaves and the hanging fruit. "They'll be ready to harvest soon." She pointed up. "It used to be my favourite time of the year. Me and Tali and…" She paused and bit her lip. "And all the boys and girls from school would come down, and Aunt Nettie and Shmeil and Mother and all the family would help. Father might even take a day or two off of work to join us. And at the end of the first day we would see who had collected the most and the one with the most would get to taste the first one after they had cured. My father would make us wait three months, just to make sure they were ready. I remember Ari used to…" She stopped, realising her error again. "I am sorry, I just…"

"No, it's fine. I want to hear about your childhood." He nodded to her to continue, and although she could tell he was uncomfortable talking about the man who had killed his friend in such a fond way, she could also tell he was trying to make up for his earlier mistakes. "Ziva, please go on with your story."

"Are you certain, because I do not have to if you do not…"

"Ziva. I want to hear." He smiled, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb.

"He used to know that by the time the olives were cured and ready he would be back with his mother again and so he would not get a chance to try them, so he would always split his find between all of the children, and he would always give me more than everyone else. In return, once they were cured I would always put a few in a small jar and send it to him, using all of the money I had saved. And every year he would bring me the jar back when he visited and tell me that he was certain the ones I sent were the ones I picked because they had tasted so good." She smiled at the memory. "I think he would have liked to meet you, when he was a good man."

"Why?" Tony asked, not certain he was entirely happy with the idea but trying desperately not to offend her.

"Because you make me happy. He would have liked to meet the man who makes me happy."

"I make you happy?"

"Yes. Of course you do." She took his chin between her fingers and looked at him seriously. "I do not have to talk about him anymore if it makes you feel uneasy."

"He was your brother. You should not have to never talk about him because of me."

"It is not fair on you then, though. I do not mind. I have my memories of him. It does not hurt me to keep them to myself, but it hurts you for me to share them."

"Ziva, I don't want you to sacrifice anything for me."

"You are willing to sacrifice your life for me and yet I cannot sacrifice something so small as being able to talk about my memories? That hardly seems fair." She knelt and faced him. "Let me do this for you, Tony. You came all the way to Tel Aviv for me."

"I had to. You weren't there." He shrugged, leaning forwards and kissing her. She moved closer and he rolled to his knees, their hands finding their way to entangle in the others hair. Tony had turned her so her back was pressed against the gnarled bark of the tree and one hand had dropped to her waist were it was toying with the hem of her blouse.

Gibbs looked at them with raised eyebrows. "I cooked dinner. It's on the table."

"Er, thanks, Gibbs. You been there long?" Tony looked at the older man, embarrassed. He knew that Gibbs thought of them both as his children and a father probably never wanted to see one, or even both, of his children kissing so…amorously. Particularly not in an olive grove. And particularly not with the knowledge that if he had not interrupted when he did he may have fallen witness to things that no father should ever have to think about his children doing.

"Long enough." He said gruffly before turning on his heels and walking back towards the house. "Steaks getting cold."

* * *

"You may sleep in my room." Ziva smiled as she led him up to the attic.

"What about you?" Tony grasped her wrist, frowning.

"I shall sleep in Tali's room. She would have been more comfortable with that than you and I sleeping in the same bed."

"It's not like we haven't shared the same bed bef…wait, your sister wouldn't approve of me?" He looked stunned.

"No, she would have. She would have liked you. She was just…traditional. She would have told me off for even having a boy in my room past curfew." Ziva smiled softly. "We are not married. Were we to be married, her response would be different. I assure you." She opened the door to her room. "Besides, we will not both fit on the bed." She pointed to the iron framed cot bed.

"Christ, Ziva. That thing looks like it belongs in an old hospital."

"Barracks, actually." She chuckled lightly as he raised his eyebrows.

"Daddy David couldn't get you a nicer bed?"

"I asked for it. One of the barracks was closing down and I hated the pink bed my mother liked, so I asked my father for a bed from the barracks." She shrugged. "Tali liked the pink bed."

"How old were you."

"I was seven." She ran a hand through her hair, remembering the simpler time. "I do not think I am ever coming back here." She sighed and Tony wrapped his arms around her.

"You never know. One day you might."

"No, I cannot come back here again." She took a wooden crate from where it sat in the corner housing books and looked around her childhood room. She emptied the books into a pile and stashed them in the corner before taking the two photo frames from the desk and placing them in the box, along with a snow-globe and a carved wooden box. She also placed a small silver jewellery box and a small leather bound journal in there, before packing the remaining space with clothes. She smiled weakly before heading downstairs, leaving Tony alone in the room for a moment before she came back with a few more photographs and sentimental items gathered from around the house. "I doubt anyone will even notice they are missing." She sealed the box and perched on the edge of it.

"Come here." He extended his arms and she walked into them, relishing in their warmth. "I'm sorry."

"Sign of weakness." She muttered, tucking her head under his chin.

"And don't I know it." He chuckled as she yawned. "We have a long flight tomorrow. Get some sleep."

"Ani ohevet otcha, Tony."

"Ti amo, Ziva."

"Lilah tov." She kissed his check.

"Buena notte."

* * *

"Tony, my love, come with me." Ziva kissed him gently to wake him. He stared at her face, lit by the pale moonlight from the skylight and smiled sleepily.

"Decided your sister wouldn't mind if you joined me after all?" He grinned.

"No, I want you to come with me."

"Where?"

"Tony, do not ask questions. It is a surprise." She found his hand and smiled. "Come on." She tossed him his t-shirt and jeans from where he had left them when he had gone to bed.

"Ziva, it's 0100." He groaned.

"Hush. You will wake Gibbs." She watched him dress, smiling appreciatively. "I promise it will be worth it." With that he sped up. She took his hand and guided him down the stairs in the dark, pointing out the steps that creaked so he could avoid them. They crept past a peaceful-looking Gibbs, sleeping on the couch in the living room. She carefully unlocked the door, putting pressure on it at just the right moment so it didn't click and lead him out to the olive grove. She counted the trees as they passed before stopping at an older looking one. She hoisted herself onto a thicker looking branch and then indicated for him to get up too.

"Ziva, I…"

"Hush. Just do it." She commanded. He sighed and complied, eventually managing to sit behind her on the branch. "You said it was beautiful here, yes?"

"Yeah." He nodded, keeping his eyes fixed on her bright, excited ones.

"I think it is more beautiful now." She pointed across the landscape. The land started to slope downwards past the tree they were sat in, and the height gave a better vantage point to see the moon-bleached scene. It was breath-taking. In the distance mountains rose to meet the stelliferous sky.

"I think you might be right." He murmured as she leaned back into his body, nestling down so they were both gazing off into the view.

"I love it out here." She tilted her head up and kissed him softly. "Careful!" She laughed when he slipped slightly. "You have to be careful, just remember where you are." She laughed quietly, turning her head back to the scenery.

"Who are you so wise in the art of kissing whilst sat in trees?" He wrapped his arms securely around her waist and pressed his lips to her temple.

"I had my first kiss in…" She sat up slightly taller and craned her neck, pointing to another tree. "That tree there, see the one next to the slightly taller one?" He nodded, grinning and settling back against the trunk.

"So, your first kiss, huh? What's the story behind that one?"

"You do not want to hear about it, do you?" She looked shocked as he nodded.

"I want to know all about you."

"Okay." She leant her head back on his shoulder and held his hands as they wrapped around her waist and sat clasped on her stomach. "I was sixteen…"

"You were sixteen when you had your first kiss?"

"I lived in a different world to you Tony. There was this boy…"

"Usually helps."

"Do you want to hear the story or not?"

"Continue."

"Okay, I was sixteen and there was this boy. Yossef. He was in my class at school, not that he turned up. He was a, uh, what do you call them…er, he did not like authority, yes?"

"Rebel."

"Yes, that is the word. He was a rebel, and my father believed him to be a bad influence. But I liked him. People only saw the petulant child in him, a character that would not have lasted long in our society. Anyway, my father forbid me to see him, already planning career in the Israeli Army. But I could not agree with that – I hated how controlling my father was – and so I told Yossef to meet me at midnight one time. I persuaded Tali, she was twelve at this point, I persuaded her to help me get out of the house. She spent the whole evening nervous and I was worried she would tell Mother and Father, but she did not. She stayed silent and helped me climb out of the skylight in my room. I did not have too much difficulty getting down, and I met Yossef at the front door. He did fear my father, everyone did, so he told me that we could spend an hour together and no longer. It had taken him longer than that to get to the house, so I suggested we go and watch the sky. We climbed into the tree together, he was not very good at climbing trees, and I found it so hard not to laugh at him. Well, in the end he did manage to get up onto the branch, and he sat there and told me he wanted to kiss me!" Tony laughed.

"Shocking!"

"I know! I told him I was not that sort of girl, that I do not just kiss people because they say they want to kiss me, and I told him I wanted him to leave. He just climbed to the next branch across, and I ignored him. I was very angry."

"I can imagine." Tony pressed another kiss to her temple. "I feel sorry for poor Yossef."

"Why?"

"Well, you were angry at him, which is never a good thing, and he didn't get to kiss you."

"Ah, that is where you are mistaken. It was five minutes to one in the morning, and I was still ignoring him, so he decided enough was enough, he was not going to wait anymore when my father could come out at any moment and who knew what my father would do then, so he started to climb down. But I did not want him to leave and I took his wrist and I said 'Yossef, I am sorry. I should not have told you that you cannot kiss me.' And he smiled and climbed back onto the branch and he kissed me."

"And then what happened?"

"Nothing."

"You're lying. Tell me what happened next." He was enjoying himself, in a strange way. In a sick way when he really thought about it.

"Okay. Well, the trees were all blossoming, and I, uh, I sneezed."

"You sneezed?" He was in fits of laughter.

"Yes. I sneezed. And then it was like one thing after another, you know. I sneezed and that made him jump, and because he jumped he fell of the branch, and because he still had his arms around me I fell too. And I hit my head." She realised how funny the story actually was as Tony struggled to regain some form of composure. "So, Yossef, rather embarrassed, limped back to his bicycle, and I walked back to the house, but I had hit my head, as I said, quite badly." She took his hand and lifted it to just behind her hairline. "There is a scar, see?" He ran his finger along it and nodded. "I was suffering from a slight concussion, and so I managed to stagger inside, blood running down the side of my face, and of course I had forgotten that my father would be upset with me when he knew I had been outside at night with Yossef. I slammed the door shut and my father came down and saw me and spent half an hour yelling at me before he realised I was not listening to a word he said. He drove me to the nearest hospital, where they stitched me up, and then he continued yelling. And when he was finished he did not talk to me for a month. He did not even acknowledge my presence." She said, as if in a daze. "Tali, Tali was an angel. She told him that it was her fault, because she had answered a telephone call from Yossef and had arranged it all, because he had suggested it. She then told him that because I was such a good girl that I could not deny a guest my company when they had been invited over, so of course I could not turn him down as it would be rude."

"And what did he say to that?"

"He ignored her for the month. She said she deserved the punishment for helping me and took it like a saint."

"Did your father ever get his hands on Yossef?"

"Last I heard, Yossef has been hiding in Russia from my father."

"How long ago was that?" Tony asked, now truly fearing her father.

"Well, lets see, his mother told me when I bumped into her in town on Tuesday, so…five days ago?"

Tony cringed. "Remind me to never anger Director David."

"Trust me, I do not think you will need reminding." She chuckled, kissing the hollow of his neck. "But do not worry, my little hairy butt. I will not let him get near you."

* * *

"I'm back, Baby!" Tony leant against the doorframe to Abby's lab, grinning, his arms spread wide.

"TTTOONNNNYYYYYYYYYYY!" She threw herself at him. "We've all missed you so much and the Director's just been giving poor Timmy and Lee paperwork and no cases at all! It was dreadful seeing him so miserable and… You're not miserable! Eeeeeeee! Is she back? Is she home? Did you bring her home?!" Abby's face lit up more than he had ever seen it. He just shrugged and turned for the elevator. "No time for the elevator Tony! It's too slow!" She squealed as she literally dragged him up the stairs. She dragged him into the squadroom, where he collapsed at his desk – unable to feel his arms or legs – and she flung her arms around Ziva's neck. "Never leave us like that again. Promise?"

"I promise, Abby. I am sorry." She smiled at the familiarity. "But I think there is someone else here who wants to say hello." She pried Abby's arms from around her neck, rubbing where she knew a bruise would form.

"Hey."

"Giiiiiiiiiiibbs!" Abby ran into the retired agent, burying her head into his chest. He leaned his chin on top of her head and wrapped his arms around her. "Are you staying too?" He just sighed and looked at her.

"Just visiting, Abs. Sorry." He pressed a kiss to her cheek.

"No. No. You have to stay now! You're forgetting your own rules! Rule six, remember. Never apologise, it's a sign of weakness! You have to remember, Gibbs."

"I remember, Abs. And I remember rule twelve, too. But they've just been on the sidelines for a bit this week." He hugged her one last time. "Sorry I never properly said goodbye last time. Goodbye, Abby." He took one last look at her face and turned to McGee. "Keep her safe for me, won't you?"

"Sure thing, Boss." He nodded, his voice cracking as Gibbs shook his hand.

"Hey, DiNozzo!" He yelled, hitting the back of Tony's head, surprisingly softly. "Don't screw it up again." He inhaled deeply and placed his hand on his son's head. "You've done me proud." He turned to Ziva and kissed the top of her head. "Be happy. Don't let him hurt you. Ever." He rubbed her cheek with a thumb, and smiled. He looked up to the balcony and nodded to Jenny. She nodded back and he thought that for a second, just a second, he saw a tear slip down her cheek. He walked towards the elevator for the last time. Again. No, this time it would be the last time. He promised himself. He stepped into the silver box and swiped away a tear that had the audacity to try and fall. The metal slid closed in front of him.

Almost.

Ziva's dainty hand jutted through the tiny crack left and she had barely waited for the door to open again as she squeezed through. The doors closed behind her as she stared at him, her face wet with tears. She pointed to the off switch and he smiled, hitting it. For the last time, he promised himself. "I never said thank you."

"What for?"

"Saving me. Giving me a home. A new life. Someone to love. A proper father. Thank you." She leaned up and kissed his cheek. "Thank you."

"Hey, don't cry." He pulled her into a hug, being reminded again of Kelly. "What have you got to cry about, huh? Apart from having to put up with DiNozzo?"

"Losing a father?"

"You're not losing a father. Send me an invite to the wedding. I'll even wear a tux."

"But will you give me away at my wedding?" She sobbed into his arms.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world." He promised. _A lot of promises being made today_. He thought to himself. "Go on, Ziva. Be happy. Say yes when he proposes. Marry him. Have lots of children to run around and cause havoc. Love him." He kissed her forehead one last time and dried her eyes for her. She stepped back and nodded, taking a deep breath and standing next to him. She hit the switch again and he tapped the back of her head softly, like he had when she had turned up for the liaison position. But this time her laughs were mixed with tears.

 ** _Tony's list of adjectives to describe Ziva_**

 _Agile, aggressive, adventurous_

 _Beautiful, brilliant, bold, brave_

 _Creative, clever, crazy, caring, confusing_

 _Daring, diligent, dainty, dangerous_

 _Exotic, elegant_

 _Fierce, fiery_

 _Great, gallant, graceful_

 _Honest, HOT_

 _Intelligent, impulsive, irresistible_

 _Jovial_

 _Kind_

 _Loving, lovable_

 _Magnificent, modest_

 _Nonconformist, noteworthy_

 _Opinionative_

 _Passionate, powerful, practical, perfect_

 _Quaint, quirky_

 _Ravishing, rebellious, respectable, ruthful_

 _Stubborn, scary, seductive, selfless_

 _Tenacious, tantalising_

 _Unforgettable_

 _Valiant, vehement,_

 _Warmhearted, witty_

 _Xenodochial (Depends on the stranger)_ {Friendly to strangers}

 _Youthful_

 _Ziva_

 **I wrote the list of adjectives on a three hour bus journey (I know, fun, right?). I thought I would include them, since they were the original inspiration behind the fourth chapter anyway and only really got a brief mention.**

 **I know, I know, Ziva never mentioned killing him with a paperclip until season four, but I just could not resist putting it in there. What do we know, maybe they discussed it before, during one of their 'midnight meetings'?**


End file.
